You want to make out with her, don't you?
by ElsaTheCow
Summary: Kory knows what's up. Based on the AMAZING dialogue between Gar and Kory in Titans (season 1 episode 8). Very fluffy. (BBRae oneshot)


That night on the train, the conversation between Kory and Gar had stayed relatively mundane. Bordering on boring, actually, if Gar's being honest. Kory just isn't as fun to talk to as Rachel, who he apparently shared a "connection" with. Well, according to Kory. He trusts Kory's judgment though, for the most part.

Suddenly, Kory's eyes seem to glow with a slight deviousness that usually made Gar's skin sizzle. He always hated this particular look. This look was the same look that she would give Dick when he was being difficult, the same look that simultaneously meant 'I'm smarter than you' and 'I'm gonna crack your mind open like an egg and fry it with my next words.' If he had been looking at Kory while she was donning this look, he would have known to be on his guard and possibly flee the premises. Well, at least flee this particular train compartment. Even changing seats would have sufficed.

However, Gar is not so fortunate, because Kory had just mentioned Rachel by name and then said that the two of them had a connection. That notion makes him feel all nice and cozy, like her words are wrapping him in a heavy blanket. Or… wrapping him in a hug from Rachel.

"You want to make out with her, don't you?"

Gar hates how his heartbeat immediately quickens at her half-question, half-statement. Yes, he hates it because the sensation feels quite similar to going into cardiac arrest, but also because it's _not true_. Or, well, it's not supposed to be true.

"What? N-n… heh, no." Gar's voice catches in his throat as he vigorously shakes his head, all the while a blush rose to his cheeks. It was clearly betraying his plan to keep it cool and calm in front of Kory. She just keeps going on about how kissing is natural, and she's looking at him with that frustratingly knowing look that she's clearly perfected, and since _when_ did this train become a frickin' sauna?

Gar swallows his pride. "I-I'm not comfortable talking about this." His voice is clipped and frustrated, tinted with humiliation. As in, he's a stupid fifteen-year-old boy with stupid hormonal urges, none of which hold any real intent. None at all.

Does Gar want to comfort Rachel and see to it that she doesn't feel alone anymore? Definitely. Does he want Rachel's eyes to meet his during a team meeting so they can have a moment, and so he can revel in the way the blue of her irises catches any sort of light and flickers with her mood? Of course.

Does he want to make Rachel giggle and laugh and snort at his jokes? Absolutely. Her giggles were the sweetest music, with her beautiful eyes dancing in time with its rhythm. There was an edge to Rachel's voice—almost crackling, a bit moody and out of place in quality, though definitely not unpleasant. But… her laughter? It was like coming home.

Actually, her smile—in and of itself—was beautiful. Her smirks were lovely, sure, but her genuine smiles were the _best. _Like… the way the corners of her lips would quiver at first, as if she was nervous to let the smile take shape on her face. And then she'd stop fighting the sensation, stop forcing her lips together and let them relax into a breathtaking smile.

Her lips were the prettiest shade of pink. Despite the black eyeliner and the dyed hair, Rachel's lips remained neutral and natural in their presentation. Gar sometimes wondered what they'd feel like—soft, probably, and maybe they'd taste the way she smelled—like jasmine soap with sandalwood undertones. Kissing her would _definitely _be more electrifying than mouthing at the back of his hand in his attempt to mimic something he'd never actually experienced.

The thing about him never being kissed before was that his wants, his cravings, were really more of a guessing game than anything.

Sure, there had been girls at the arcade in the past who Gar had eyed with hope in his heart, but it was more of a "you're about my age, you're very attractive, I'd be down to put my lips on you" line of thinking. Even the few girls that he'd spoken to in his various video game voice-chats had made him think the occasional "I wonder what it'd be like to kiss you… if we weren't x miles apart and all."

But no girl had ever piqued his interest _quite _like Rachel. Actually, a very specific set of interests had been piqued in particular; so far, he had been doing just fine controlling and subduing these interests, just subtly admiring from afar. Well, he had _thought _he'd been really subtle. However, it was clear that Kory was either secretly equipped with mindreading powers, or he'd just been more obvious about his attraction than he had previously assumed. Gar wasn't too sure which situation he'd prefer.

Although, it was one thing for Kory to know how he felt. It was another thing entirely for Rachel to know just how deep his feelings ran for her.

But Kory seems to think that this urge inside of him was all about kissing, about making out, and that wasn't it at all.

Gar just… wants to be close to Rachel. He wants Rachel to know that she could trust him with her life, and that he would risk his own life in a heartbeat for hers. He wants Rachel to see him as someone who would be there for her, by her side, even when no one else could be or would be. He believes in Rachel, and he wants Rachel to believe in herself; but, if she wasn't currently ready to believe in herself, he's fine with believing enough for the both of them.

Maybe one day he'll be brave enough to share all that with her using actual words. But for now, remaining at her side, protecting her at all costs—that's how he would prove how much he cares.

And if that time ever comes for him to share his… well, his _feelings_, and Rachel were to reciprocate—

Nope. Nope, nope, NOPE, not going there. Gar is NOT going there. Because whenever his mind went to any shred of Rachel's possible (but highly unlikely) reciprocation in the past, his mind subsequently became harder and harder to control. So… that's not happening tonight. Nothappeningnothappeningnot—

"Can I have that?" Gar asks—begs, really—as his face flushes and his heartbeat echoes in his ears. Alcohol could make you stop overthinking, right? Slows you down and makes you less self-conscious, less inhibited and anxious? That's probably the case, usually. Hopefully.

Kory seems like she's having way too much fun with this whole incident, but Gar still appreciates her letting him try the shot of, um, whatever's in there. He gags on the harsh taste, but it momentarily shakes him out of his thought process. And that was the goal: to stop thinking about Rachel. About Rachel's laugh. About Rachel's smile. About Rachel's lips.

Shit.


End file.
